


Boundaries

by zarabithia



Category: Captain America, Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Historical, Community: lgbtfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony had always intended on making his mark at sea, but there are some traditions he has no intentions of breaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boundaries

They were, without question, the mightiest ship England had to offer.

Anthony Stark was damn proud of that accomplishment. He had left his own country, King, title, and considerable fortune behind in order to make his name in the world's best fleet.

His gamble had paid off handsomely. He'd been permitted to rise up through the ranks despite courtly objections, until he'd been second in status only to Captain Rogers. Admiral Fury may have objected, but Anthony had the queen under his spell, and it was for the Queen they sailed.

And, Anthony liked to boast, like their Queen, there was not a woman in England who was resistant to his charms. He considered the substantial female companionship yet another benefit of his position. But the call of the sea took Anthony away from his Queen's affection, and the attentions of his adoring lovers.

That hadn't been a problem in his native land, when the trips had been shorter than the fleeting glory they offered. But as a part of the Queen's Navy, the trips Anthony endured were too long to go without companionship.

So he turned to the same method he had observed many sailors turn to in order to help pass the long months at sea. In a ship full of men, there was no other way to make do than to take a partner of the same sex.

It was to mean nothing besides the warm feel of a warm body - a willing substitute for the giggling, attentive women that Anthony missed.

That he picked Captain Rogers as his partner instead of the far more accepted practice of picking a lower ranking sailor meant nothing. Anthony reasoned that his tastes had always ran towards the elite, and of the available seamen on their boat, it could not be denied that Captain Rogers was the best.

That Captain Rogers preferred to take _his_ partner from the upper crust of soldiers in order to avoid "taking advantage" of the lower shipmen worked in Anthony's favor.

Anthony delighted in claiming his prize and took great pleasure in considering each and every favor that bedding the captain of his ship could cause him in the long run. Such trysts were normal - expected, even - among men of their profession, and Rogers was a fair man. Anthony believed it was simply a matter of making it worth his Captain's time, and providing the same amount of pleasure to his Captain as he did the numerous women who had crossed his bed before Anthony would be rising another step closer to Admiral Fury's position.

It was a good plan. No one could ever say that Anthony Stark wasn't capable of making the very best plans, nor could they say that he wasn't capable of seeing them through to the end.

But no one could ever claim that Anthony Stark was a dumb man, either, and as the weeks at sea progressed into months and the Captain became _Stephen_, the growing anticipation he felt as the sun set and the time to join his captain neared was a change too great for Anthony to ignore.

He tried. Several bottles of rum that had otherwise been intended for Stephen Rogers assisted him in the effort.

No amount of alcoholic slumber could numb the tingle Anthony felt as Stephen walked with him into the captain's cabin. Try as Anthony might to ignore the way Stephen's fingers felt, there was no denying the pleasure he derived from touching Stephen's broad, muscular chest or from caressing the tidy blond ponytail.

The growing panic Anthony felt only doubled on the night that Stephen's mouth dropped feather-light kisses on the back of Anthony's neck.

As if he were a _woman_, Anthony thought in disgust - no matter that he may have enjoyed the touch. The impropriety of Stephen's touch gave Anthony a way to focus his internal disgust onto an external target.

"Boundaries, _Captain_," he hissed. "Despite our relative positions, I am not your _wench._"

That the immediate withdrawal of Stephen's touch made Anthony instantly regret his words was enough to make Anthony drink himself into unconsciousness once he stumbled angrily from the captain's cabin to his own sleeping quarters.

The next day's conversation were brief and the blue eyes of Anthony's captain did not focus on Anthony for very long. When nighttime came, Stephen retired to his cabin alone.

Anthony remained on the deck, considering which would be the worst fate: going back to his sleeping quarters alone, or finding someone else to take Stephen's place. There were plenty of young sailors available that Anthony could easily entice into sharing the burden of a lonely sailing life.

But Anthony could not disregard the possibility that he could want one of the sailor boys as much as he wanted the captain. Anthony was not certain whether such a want would be preferable to the solitary desire for one man.

By the time Anthony had sought out one of the sailor boys and taken him back to Anthony's sleeping quarters, Anthony was determined that neither situation would be true. Men of the sea were supposed to choose their partners to make do. There was nothing in naval tradition about becoming _attached._

Anthony was not willing to become an exception to that longstanding tradition.

Yet, he was quite aware of the tie his new partner had to the captain, even as Anthony picked him. James Barnes had sailed with the captain on his very first mission for the Queen, back when he'd been no more than a mere boy, and continued to do so, even with one arm missing.

Loyalty, according to the court's rumors, was a very important quality to Captain Rogers.

Anthony tried his best to ignore those rumors _and_ the history that his new partner had with the captain and as James started to lay down on the bed, Anthony pulled him roughly up by the arm and pushed James down onto his knees.

There would be no sentimentality to this act. A quick, efficient mouth was all Anthony needed. It was all he was going to _accept._

James smirked up at Anthony before beginning his work. A knowing little smirk, one that said that James knew every reason that had brought Anthony to this point.

Anthony closed his eyes and thought of petticoats and corsets, of round breasts and wide hips, of long, flowing locks - everything to dissuade him from the comfort he had sought so readily in the broad shoulders, muscled hands, and the short blond ponytail of his captain.

His fantasy was a good one, and there were plenty of women to seek denial in. Yet Anthony's carefully constructed lie was broken by the not entirely unpleasant muscled hand on his thigh reminding Anthony that it was not a woman he yearned for.

Anthony pushed the hand angrily away, but his mind gave in, allowing the soft lips of his mind's eye to be replaced by Stephen's square jaw. There was no harm, his mind argued, in wanting what he craved as long as he did not allow himself to take it.

When he finished, James stood up and continued to smirk at him.

"It would do you well to watch your place, boy," Anthony reminded him, trying to find the prestige and position his own desires were calling into question.

"I know _my_ place," James retorted. "Have ever since I first joined the Cap. It's you who seems to be havin' a bit of trouble in that department."

Anthony tensed but did not give in. "You speak foolishness," he replied.

"I wonder," James continued. "If I hadn't lost my arm I might be in the same _position_ as you. Doubt I'd be wasting my time with me if I were in your shoes. Not knowing what you could have."

"Be gone from my sight," Anthony hissed.

"You should take it from someone who knows, the want won't go away when we get back home. You might never allow another man to touch you again, but you'll never be able to forget how it felt when you _did,_" James cautioned and Anthony was startled to hear the boy articulate the heretofore undefined fear in Anthony's gut.

Anthony reacted the only way he could. "Get out. Before I have you drawn up for court martial."

"As you wish," James responded breezily, slipping out of the room.

Left alone, the only comfort Anthony had was a bottle not quite full enough to drown out either the truthfulness he knew lay hidden in James' words or the desire that he'd never wanted to have.


End file.
